M. Gessen

This too had never happened to me.

I'd never thought, you go girl, when watching an assistant U.S.

attorney pound away at a defendant whom she wants to get locked up.

I have covered dozens of trials in this country and elsewhere.

I spent a couple of years immersed in American terrorism trials, where most of the evidence came from FBI agents.

I'd seen defendants who had done monstrous things, like set off bombs at the Boston Marathon, and stupid things, like dispose of the evidence.

And I'd never before wanted anyone, anyone, to get the maximum sentence.

I had never before disregarded defense arguments so completely.

And I'd never before trusted the testimony of an undercover agent so fully.

If I pause to think about it, I'd have to note that there was something very odd about some of those signal messages, which were shown not as screenshots, but as pictures of a phone taken with another phone, and which contained incorrect ages for both kids.

But even though I have known the FBI to manufacture evidence, I had no patience for the public defender's focus on these strange messages.

And also, no empathy.

The jury deliberated for just a few hours.

There couldn't have been much of a disagreement.

Guilty, I texted my father.

Understood, he responded.

Nine minutes later, he added, as you might have guessed, I am not surprised.

None of us had any doubt anymore.

I had been checking in with Priscilla throughout the trial.

At the beginning, she was reserved, focused on her own testimony.